Gone Too Soon: The 51st Hunger Games (SYOT)
by captain-random64
Summary: It's been a year since the end of the exciting second Quarter Quell and the Capitol are starving with bloodlust. Will the deaths of 23 children satisfy their needs for another year?
1. Back to Basics

President Snow sat, impatiently, in his office. The Capitol was growing hungry. Last year, the second Quarter Quell had brought a much-needed excitement as 48 tributes battled to the death and concluded with the surprise victory of District 12s Haymitch Abernathy.

 _An unfortunate surprise,_ President Snow thinks.

Not long after his victory Snow had his family executed for making a mockery of the Capitol by using the arenas forcefield as a weapon. But that minor detail aside, the brutal fight that took place between twice as many tributes as usual left high expectations for this years Hunger Games. The President had already fired last years Head Gamemaker for failing to inspire anything creative into this years Games and despite all the interviews he had given, no one had come close to being able to promise anything exceptional. That was until Aelia arrived.

A promising, young, Capitol resident, Aelia had only been a gamemaker for two years. Heck, if she lived in one of the Districts her name wouldn't have been long gone from the reaping bowl. Perhaps that's what gave her that little spark President Snow was looking for.

"If I'm honest" Aelia starts "I think you're expecting just a tad too much."

The President is taking slightly aback by this. No one had ever been bold enough to tell the tyrannical leader of Panem that he was expecting too much, especially not when it concerned the Games. But surprisingly it intrigued him rather than angered him.

"I think, especially after last years special games, that we need to take it back to basics" Aelia continues "Remind the Districts why we have the games in the first place, remind them why we're sending their children to die, remind them why we have victors."

This was something President Snow had never thought of. Frankly he always saw the games as wasteful, he always thought it'd be much more efficient to just take 24 of the Districts children and shoot them each year, leaving no survivors. He always thought the spectacle that was the Hunger Games only existed because the Capitol had grown to love it so much. He never truly thought as to why there was the need for victors. This left him confused, and silent.

Luckily Aelia had a degree in the History of Panem as well as a masters in Panems politics. The Hunger Games was literally her expertise. And she noticed the confusion on the Presidents face.

"Hope" Aelia smiles "It is the only thing stronger than fear. Fear keeps the Districts in line, hope makes them believe that there is a possibility for a better tomorrow."

Snow grins at her. Finally, some honesty, no bullshitting about how this year's games "will be the greatest in Panem history". Finally, someone who understands the importance of these games.

"I expect great things from you" President Snow announces "Head Gamemaker"

The two shake hands. Sadly, although neither one of the two knew it at this time, this was an alliance that would end in the murder of one and the fall from power for the other.

* * *

 ** ** **Anyone can submit up to three characters. Please just make sure they're all realistic. The tributes I find the easiest to write for will be the ones accepted.******

 **SYOT form (form can also be found on my profile)**

 **Name:**

 **Gender:**

 **Age:**

 **District:**

 **Sexuality:**

 **Appearance (body type, hair, eyes, facial structure, can include a face claim if you like):**

 **Personality (be descriptive):**

 **Family (if any):**

 **Friends (if any):**

 **Backstory (be as detailed as possible):**

 **Reaped or volunteered:**

 **Reaction to being reaped/reason for volunteering:**

 **Reaping outfit:**

 **Interview angle:**

 **Interview outfit:**

 **Strategy for the games:**

 **Preferred Weapon:**

 **Strengths:**

 **Weaknesses:**

 **Suggested training score and why:**

 **Are they open to alliances:**

 **District Token:**

 **Any other interesting characteristics:**

* * *

 **So…I haven't done a SYOT for years now but I thought "hey, I'm a much better writer than I was back then and I used to really enjoy doing them, plus I've kind of just gotten back into The Hunger Games fandom so why not?"**

 **Also, that statement about murder and the fall from power will be explained, just not for a while.**

 **So feel free to submit any tributes! The form will be on my profile and send it to me through DMs or in a review. It's not a first come, first serve basis and acceptance will be based on whether I think I can easily write for your character.**

 **Hope you all have a great day and hope to see your tributes!**


	2. Tribute List

This is a list of currently available tributes, you can reserve a tribute for up to five days at which point the spot will become open again!

 **District 1**

Female – Chariot Overmeyer, 16 Years Old

Male – Utopia Aire, 15 Years Old

 **District 2**

Female – Aoifa Medakan, 18 Years Old

Male – Nicasio Kirrily, 18 Years Old

 **District 3**

Female – Tesla Emerson, 17 Years Old

Male – Nokia Adamar, 17 Years Old

 **District 4**

Female – Ria Perez, 18 Years Old

Male – Arno Trian, 18 Years Old

 **District 5**

Female – Sorrel Yukim, 17 Years Old

Male – Marcos Torrero, 16 Years Old

 **District 6**

Female – Bree Mavis, 15 Years Old

Male – Lucas Mavis, 17 Years Old

 **District 7**

Female **–** Phoenix Adler, 16 Years Old

Male – Girion Holmes, 18 Years Old

 **District 8**

Female – Organza Merino, 15 Years Old

Male – Burton Hansen, 17 Years Old

 **District 9**

Female – Amber Fields, 12 Years Old

Male – Dawson Ramsay, 14 Years Old

 **District 10**

Female – Henrietta "Hetty" Duckett, 17 Years Old

Male – Aiden Greer, 12 Years Old

 **District 11**

Female – Heather Sawyer, 12 Years Old

Male – Azeem Frade, 17 Years Old

 **District 12**

Female – Hollie Brimings, 18 Years Old

Male – Ridion Grey, 15 Years Old


	3. One Last Gift (prologue)

**Still plenty of tributes available.**

* * *

If there's one thing President Snow hated, it was visiting the Districts.

Some Districts were better than others admittedly. District 1 is always pleasant, and more importantly clean, whilst District 4, on a sunny day, is rather beautiful but as for the outer Districts, they're not particularly pleasant.

He loathed how filthy they are, how impoverished their children looked. It makes him laugh to think that even Districts like 9, 10 and 11 have at least one Victor.

And more importantly, how District 12 managed to win what was the toughest and most gruesome games in Panem history. The mood in 12 was lighter than usual. They were much more cheery, presumably because they've been fed a lot better due to their recent victory. And yet they still reeked of poverty and desperation, like they were barely clinging on to life.

To some extent it's amusing. Seeing how excited the people of these lower Districts get when they see something as simple as sugar. Seeing how hopeful they are that the 51st Hunger Games might result in another victory. Seeing how they compare themselves to the likes of District 1 and 2 simply because they won a game just by chance.

But there's one person in District 12 who doesn't revel in the fact that they were victorious in the second Quarter Quell. One person who doesn't appreciate the generosity of the Capitol. One person who has dreaded the gifts that have been presented to his District.

And that person is Haymitch Abernathy.

It's been just under a year since his victory and already the trials and tribulations of being a victor have taken a toll on him. Snow already knew he'd be one of those victors who quickly falls into a life of drunken despair, just like Chaff from District 11. Just the thought of it makes Snow grin.

But he has one last gift for Mr Abernathy before the 51st Hunger Games begin. A single white rose placed at the front of his door step. One last reminder that this is only the beginning of a long life of solitary and despair.

* * *

 **So I've still got loads of tributes left, the list of remaining spaces are in the previous chapter. Hope you enjoyed and please submit 😊 Form is on my profile and in the first chapter.**


	4. District 13 & Available Tributes

**So still got tributes available. Currently need boys from 3, 8. The boys from 2, 5, and 11 are currently reserved.**

* * *

District 13s government was based on two principles; order and secrets.

No one knew this better than District 13s current ruler, President Link. He'd been the sole ruler of 13 ever since it seceded from the rest of Panem. It was he who agreed to the deal in which District 13 and their population would go into hiding underground, and it was he who allowed the rest of the Districts to be punished so cruelly by the Capitol.

During deliberation talks between Link and the former President of Panem, it was decided that in order for the secession ,and the secrecy surrounding, it to be successful then it would be best if Panem and District 13 cut off all commercial communication with one another. This meant that no broadcasts from Panem would reach 13 and vice-versa. There were exceptions to this rule though of course. Link maintained an occasional communication with Panems government, for example he and President Snow privately conversed over video when Snow first came into power, but the rest of 13 were in the dark. This lack of communication between 13 and Panem also however meant that no one in the supposedly destroyed District had any knowledge of the Hunger Games. That is of course, no one except President Link. He believed it was best that 13 remained in the dark when it came to the Hunger Games as should they discover the cruel way in which the Capitol punishes their sister District then there would be a public outcry for revolution. And District 13 was in no way ready to start another rebellion. On top of that, Link almost enjoyed the annual reports he'd get from the President of Panem in which the events of that years Games were described in full detail. And so, Link kept the Hunger Games a very well-kept secret for fifty-one years with not a single soul discovering its existence.

That was until Alma Coin came along. Considering she was only thirty-two years of age, Coin had made quite an impression in the 13s political setting. She was already the right-hand woman of Link and displayed quite an impressive length of governmental power. But it still wasn't enough. Alma Coin wanted it all, and she wouldn't stop until she got it.

It was pure luck that Alma discovered the existence of the Hunger Games. All she was doing was innocently looking for a document so she could update District 13s population record, as was her job after all, when she accidently came across a folder entitled "The Hunger Games". And what she read blew her mind. She was amazed that for over fifty-one years Panem had been sending twenty-four children to fight to the death, amazed that Link had kept it a secret, and amazed that she was lucky enough to stumble over this file. Something like this would ruin Links career, he'd be impeached or possibly executed even. Coin grinned in glee at the very thought of it. This was the opportunity she needed, this was her ticket to total power.

But she wouldn't use it just yet. Coin was clever and knew she'd wait for her moment before bringing down the corrupt Link and exposing him to the rest of District 13, even if that meant waiting a few more years whilst twenty-four children continue to annually fight to the death.

 _A small price to pay._ She smiled to herself.


	5. District 1 Reapings

**_Chariot Overmeyer, 16 Years Old_**

 ** _District 1 Female_**

It's sort of a cliché but the toughest and strongest of each species will either work with one another or compete against one another.

The same can be said for girls, particularly girls from District 1. There's five of us in my group, the most brutal and cunning females from my year group, who all gang up together to pick on the weaklings. Sounds cruel, I know, but I also know for a fact that everyone would prefer to be at the top of the food chain rather than at the bottom of it. We call ourselves the Elites, for obvious reasons.

I was actually quite pleasant when I was a little girl and got on with everyone. As I grew up however I began acting out more, tossing away any of those "losers" who I used to call friends to instead hang out with the other strongest girls in my class. Pack mentality in my District is strong and we refuse to have any half-breeds in our pack.

We all have our reasons for wanting to be the best and I'm no exception to that. My reason; jealousy, although I've never admitted that out loud. My parents made it no secret that they loved my brother, Charming, more than me and often boasted his talents in front of me, whilst criticising any flaw I may have. When Charming became fifteen he volunteered for and won, the 43rd Hunger Games earning him even more favor in my parents' eyes by boosting their socialite status even further. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that I get to live in the Victors Village but I can't help but wish that I was the one that put us there. Growing up in someone else's shadow is difficult enough but growing up in someone else's shadow in front of the entire nation is a whole different level of torture.

I'm not ashamed to admit that I dislike my brother. Sometimes I'd go as far as saying I loathe him. Jealousy can make a girl do crazy things. I know that my life shouldn't revolve around impressing my parents but it's hard to turn away from them, the idea of them for once saying "wow Chariot, good job!" is far too desirable for me to simply stop caring and I know there's only one way I'll ever get that nod of approval.

"You sure you're ready to volunteer?" my friend Rarity asks me as we walk home to get ready for the reaping.

Rarity is unofficial "leader" of the Elites and is practically guaranteed to become a tribute one day. As cold-hearted as they come, Rarity has earned herself a reputation in our District.

"Why would you bother?" Radiance, Rarity's slightly dim-witted twin sister, questions "That hot slice of cake you call a brother has already won you a place in the Victors Village"

I shrug my shoulders since I'd never confess that jealousy is the main reason I'm volunteering before saying "Why shouldn't I volunteer? I'm top of the class in training when it concerns the girls"

This comment makes Rarity shudder. She's a lot like me in the sense that we both strive to be the best at practically everything, the fact that I'm higher than her in the current training rankings is driving her insane. Seeing her shudder gives me a slight sense of pleasure, is this what it'll feel like when I finally get one up on Charming?

Rarity changes the subject to how obsessed all the girls in my District has been with Charming since his victory, a subject she knows I detest talking about. Once I'm able to reach the comfort of the gates of the Victors Village and escape the mundane chatter from the twins I begin to get ready for the reaping. A simple pink dress is laid out for me, one of the few genuinely nice things my mother will do for me, which I put on once I've finished showering.

I take a deep breath. This is it. This is my time.

* * *

 _ **Utopia Aire, 15 Years Old**_

 _ **District 1 Male**_

Appearances are everything.

At least according to my mother they are. That's why I can never slip up, never fail, never make a bad impression. In District 1, the District known throughout Panem for its beauty in comparison to everywhere else, even the smallest fault is scrutinised.

That's why it's a good thing I'm the literal definition of aesthetic perfection. Despite only being fifteen years old I already tower over those in the years above me which perfectly compliments my athletic build and my dirty blonde hair is never anything less than luscious. The final, and perhaps my best, feature is my green eyes which are as beautifully coloured as the trees in District 7. I've already developed a reputation here as a ladies man, which I don't object since, like I said, appearances are everything.

My family is big on the social scene hence why my mother places our reputation on such a high pedestal. The fact that my father left our family not long after my youngest sister, Marionette, was born was humiliating enough for my mother to try to conceal any weaknesses or "chinks in the armour" as she calls them. She was determined to portray us as a perfect family, giving each of my siblings a role to perform in public; Marionette is the intelligent one, being top of her class in most subjects and being able to hold an intellectual conversation with anyone despite only being eleven years old. My other younger sister, Charlemagne or Charlie as I call her, is the sweetheart of District 1. Whilst she may not be the most strategic or cunning girl I've met she's definitely the most charming. My role is the dashing young bad boy who's primed and prepped for the games to perfection.

In all honesty, I couldn't give two shits about the Hunger Games. Sure, I go to training and tell my mother every year that once I'm eighteen I'll volunteer but in reality, I have no intention of doing that. I'll allow someone else to volunteer for me and simply live out my life in the reasonable comfort that it already is in. Despite all this, I still try to excel in training, just to make mother proud.

It's ironic really, I'm perhaps the most infamous womanizer in all of my District having slept with at least a dozen girls and yet I find the female form absolutely off-putting. Now don't get me wrong, I can see why many consider the female body attractive however it does absolutely nothing to me. The moment I realised I wasn't exactly like all the other District 1 boys sticks out to me as clear as day. It was when I was watching the 46th Hunger Games and the eventual victor, District 2s Brutus Gunn, had his shirt torn from him. I know I was only ten years old but I found myself staring at the screen in pure attraction. I'd never been attracted to anyone before but since then I knew my desires weren't geared towards that of a female body. There's been countless numbers of boys I've seen during training, sweat dripping down their glistening body and the beauty of our Districts genetics adorning their faces. All of them would make desirable bachelors to me.

However, it'll never happen. Whilst being gay isn't frowned upon in Panem, I know my mother would be horrified to find out I'm attracted to a male. She'd be amazingly embarrassed considering she's tried pairing me off with many potential girls, including the mayor's daughter. If she found out I was gay, I honestly think it'd break her heart. So, I stick with the womanizing appearance and continue to sleep with girls I feel no attraction to whatsoever, all in the name of keeping up our image. It can begin to feel a little tedious at times but then I remember the importance of being desirable in terms of society.

"What you doing there Utopia?" a familiar voice asks.

I turn around to see a tall figure with large hazel eyes and tousled caramel like hair, it's Laurent. He points at a bucket filled with a thick, sticky liquid.

"I'm making styling cream" I inform him. That's the trade I'm entering, making hair products for the Capitol.

"God that stuff stinks" he laughs making a disgusted face.

It's funny, I used to bully this boy all day long simply because his parents were diamond miners, a relatively poor job in my District, and now I'm afraid to say that I may be in love with him. We had a drunken fling once where we kissed, privately of course, but nothing came of it due to my situation. Still, we hold hands under tables, so no one can see, and sneak private kisses every now and again. We get so few moments together, so we make the most of those we have.

But my mother grows increasingly suspicious. That's why I have to volunteer, she needs to be distracted and I know a victory is guaranteed for me so why not?

Killing twenty-three people is a small price to pay in exchange for me keeping my secret.

District 1, as usual, is abuzz with excitement for the annual reaping. The town square was as beautiful as ever, adorned with decorative flowers and packed to the brim with citizens.

The children of the District were all dressed elegantly in their finest clothes as they waited patiently for their escort, Julia Pompadou, to take to the stage.

Julia was dressed rather extravagantly in floral leggings, golden heels and a bright purple blouse with excessively large sleeves. Frankly, she looked ridiculous

I'm not sure how volunteering works in the outer Districts, mostly because it rarely happens, but in it's a complicated system in District 1. First Julia will pick a boy and girl. Once she has done that she will ask for all volunteers to step forward, then all the male and female volunteer names are placed into two bowls and the reaped tribute will pick out the name of the successful volunteer.

The usual routine begins. Julia picked a female name and around twenty girls jumped at the chance of being chosen. A girl named Chariot is the successful volunteer, I recognise her from somewhere. It quickly hits me that she is the sister of our most recent victor. This should be interesting.

"I formally volunteer as tribute" Chariot smiles once her name is drawn from the volunteer bowl.

Now it's the boys turn. The reaped boy, some thirteen year old, picks out a piece of paper and opens it up. I wait anxiously, watching as he reads the name in his head.

"Utopia Aire" he reads.

Yes! Thank fuck for that. The rest of the potential volunteers leave the stage as I shake Julia's hand.

"I formally volunteer as tribute" I also announce.

This is it, this is going to be great. I turn to shake hands with Chariot. Her grip is firm and almost too hard and she only has one look in her eyes, that of determination and ambition.

She'll make an excellent partner.

* * *

 **Thanks to Author-Hime for submitting both these tributes! Hope you guys liked the chapter and let me know what you think of the pair from District 1! The goodbyes done before the train ride will most likely be added as flashback scenes once they're in the Capitol.**


	6. District 2 Reapings

**Aofia Medakan, 18 Years Old**

 **District 2 Female**

Do you want to know what I hate most in the world?

Slackers.

Those who don't work as hard as they possibly can typically because they feel as if they don't need to. Some people, particularly in District 2, are born into a life of luxury and content. I wasn't so lucky, I wasn't given the same opportunities as others, I had to work hard to get where I am, and I'll have to work so much harder to get to where I want to be.

Most people in my District live a life of relative comfort unless they're unlucky enough to be placed into the District Community Home such as me and my brother. I hear rumours about my mother sometimes, small little whispers on the street, about how she herself was relatively poor compared to everyone else and had used questionable methods in order to gain enough money just to survive. Apparently, I was born on a cold and stormy night, how fitting, when my mother had burst through the doors of the local community home and had barely stepped into the building before giving birth to me. My brother was born less than a minute later. My mother had enough time left to name us but she didn't make it through to the morning. In her last moments, she gave us a parting gift.

As for my father, well I actually don't know anything about him. The parting gift my mother gave us was a pendant and a ring, each containing the image of a white wolf which she apparently received from our father. She claimed that the man who impregnated her was her one true love but everyone says she was just hysterical when she claimed that, and judging by the fact that she had to use "questionable methods" to earn money, I have to agree. I know she probably gave us the gifts as tokens of sentimentality, but to me, they're nothing more than reminders that life is cruel, brutish and short.

My twin brother, Taranis, shares many similarities with myself. We both have the same dull coppery colour to our hair and cold eyes that look the same shade of grey as the slate we mine here and seem just slightly too far apart from one another. I'm relatively big and, like all girls in 2, I carry an impressive amount of muscle, but nothing can compare to the size of my brother. The years of being a blacksmith have allowed him to put on an impressive amount of weight, making him look like a red-haired bull although his personality doesn't match that. When we were eight we were recruited into the academy, I was a bit scrawny back then but only got accepted because my brother refused to train unless I was there. Ironically Taranis had no interest in fighting and his combat skills were incredibly weak, mine, on the other hand, were superb. My trainers commented I had a certain drive for perfection and a craftsmanship when it came to killing. By the time we were ten Taranis had already dropped out, something very few people manage to do, whilst I carried on. Growing up I'd been determined to better myself, I started working as early as possible in the fruitless hope that Taranis and I would one day be able to afford enough money to leave the orphanage.

"Aoifa" a cold and stern voice hisses "just because it's reaping day doesn't mean you can escape doing your chores"

Miss Claudine is the head of the facility in which we currently reside. Her stern face could make even President Snow wince in fear, as could the cane she's never seen without. We've never shared a fond moment and the day she was told that I was the designated volunteer, thanks to all the hard work I'd put in over the past year, she struggled to smile. Ironically, we have very similar backgrounds. She too grew up in the orphanage and I know for a fact she trained for the games when she was my age and yet never managed to successfully volunteer and so instead took up a job as head of care home. I refuse to be like her, trapped forever in an old building filled with nothing but sorrowful stories, I'll volunteer and I'll win. If not for me then at least for Taranis.

Typically one student at the academy is given endorsement by the trainers to volunteer, but volunteering is still open to anyone however after all four of our tributes were killed in last years Quarter Quell, three dishonourably by a volcano and one pathetically by a tribute from 12, the academy has enforced a strict rule on only the elected volunteer actually being able to step forward.

Because of this I already know who I'm entering the arena with; a boy in my class at school named Scorpio Mectrum. He's particularly horrible, always spreading rumours about my mother being not only a prostitute but also how my brother and I were probably born out of inbreeding, but on the bright side, I know his weaknesses. I'm observant and once I knew that Scorpio was most likely going to be chosen by the trainers to enter the arena I began noting his skills, he's good with a spear and sword but that's about it, his aim with smaller weapons such as knives is terrible and he's large physique makes him a terrible runner and, more importantly, clumsy.

As bad as it sounds, I smile at the thought of slitting his throat.

* * *

 **Nicasio Kirrily, 18 Years Old**

 **District 2 Male**

"And is this your card?" I ask presenting a nine of hearts to the little girl in front of me.

Her jaw drops "But…I tore that card up?" she says in disbelief "Do it again! Do it again!"

I laugh, getting ready another set of cards before a voice calls out

"Enobaria! Come back here immediately!" a mother shouts "We need to get you ready for the reaping"

"Coming mother!" Enobaria shouts back "nice to meet you, mister"

I gently rub the six-year-olds head before replying "see you later kid" as she runs off to her mother.

Street magic is kind of my bailiwick. Nothing beats seeing the confusion on a persons face, especially when they think they know which direction a trick is going in. Little ones would call it witch-craft but the magic I do is actually quite simple and can be learnt by anyone, if they have the brains that is.

Most of the people from District 2 don't understand the beauty of street performance, one of the many reasons I get bored here, and yet it's still hard for people to be amazed when they see my talent. The problem with my District is that they're far too stern. It's almost amazing how the people here manage to live a life of comfort yet don't seem to excel in the same glamour the Capitol or even District 1 does. All work and no play makes Nicasio a very boring boy.

Perhaps that's why I signed up to train for the games. I certainly didn't start training to impress my parents, both of which are classically Hunger Games mad nor did I do it for the honour unlike every other brute in this mundane hole. Maybe I just did it to escape the constant boredom that follows a life of comfort. After all, what can be more exciting than the constant threat of being brutally murdered? I'm just a thrill seeker at heart, if not a tad psychotic, although I like to think this adds to my allure.

The trainers at the academy have a certain detest for me, mostly because anytime a knife has "disappeared out of thin air" it usually is my fault. That's why they won't let me volunteer.

"This is some bullshit" I roll my eyes, sitting by one of the many stone statues placed around the District.

"Tell me about it" my friend Decimus utters "This was our last chance to volunteer"

Mars, another friend of mine, pipes up quietly "It's not so bad, next year we get to begin peacekeeper training"

Mars and Decimus are your typical District 2 males, built like houses with muscles rippling from the years of training and stonework they've done. My body isn't as large as theirs, mine is sleeker and more graceful in a sense as well as having a waist that a lady from the Capitol would kill for. My dancer like build has allowed me to easily slip into the shadows and avoid any stonework duties I may have had to do. Who in their right mind has the time to spend all day carving stones? The very thought of it makes me yawn. What's even worse is that I might potentially have to do that for the rest of my life because of this ridiculous rule.

"Since when have you ever listened to the rules Nic?" a hushed voice whispers almost as if my thoughts were being read.

From behind me, I see Lance, the man who taught me everything I knew when it came to card tricks, pickpocketing, coin flips and riddles. You name it, he taught it to me. He's kind of my hero.

"What's exactly stopping you from volunteering" Lance continues in his hushed voice as he places an arm around my shoulder "All they did was tell you not to volunteer, but can they actually stop you? After all, who is going to argue with a victor?"

I consider this, Lance does have a good point. If I volunteer and win, not even the trainers at the academy would be able to punish me, they'd be too busy bragging about how it was their training that got me the victory.

"Lance" I give a cheeky grin "You might just be on to something"

The reapings, for me at least, are typically a dull and uneventful time of year, usually because all I have to do is stand there, but this year it's different since I'm the main event of the show.

Our escort begins by ripping out a name of a female tribute, some nobody, before a girl named Aoifa volunteers in her place. I recognise the girl slightly from school and the entire District has heard rumours about her mother being a whore although I'll admit I've gotten on well with her twin before as he seems to enjoy watching my tricks during lunch breaks.

Next up is the boys. A name is picked and the designated volunteer, a rock of boy named Scorpio, lifts his hand up to volunteer to no one's surprise. Just as he's walking up to the stage I also step forward much to the shock of the entire District, particularly the trainers. I've always said that I live to astonish.

The regular procedure follows. My name and Scorpio's is placed in a bowl whilst the originally reaped tribute, a fifteen-year-old, picks out the name. Scorpio stares at me in passionate fury as the boy opens up the slip of paper with one of our names on. I can practically feel the rage vibrating off him, it's verging on the edge of hilarious, so I decide to play up to the cameras a little. I blow Scorpio a kiss before giving him a cheeky wink causing his face to flush red both in anger and embarrassment further enhancing how funny I find this moment.

"Nicasio Kirrily" the reaped boy eventually reads.

Scorpio's face practically explodes. He kicks the reaping bowl causing the glass to shatter all over the front of the justice building and leading him to be escorted off stage by peacekeepers.

"Ooh, a lot of excitement in District 2 today" Fabia, our escort, giggles.

"I formally volunteer as tribute" I announce before shaking hands with a shaken Aoifa.

I hope the Hunger Games is ready. It's about time someone added a bit of magic into that arena.

* * *

 **So, got to admit, I did really enjoy writing for these two tributes. Also, I hope you enjoyed the little reference I gave to Enobaria, one of my favourite Hunger Games character, as the little girl Nicasio was entertaining. Big thanks to sparky she-demon for submitting Aoifa and messymodgepodge for submitting Nicasio! Hoping to get the next reaping out soon!**


	7. District 3 Reapings

**Tesla Emerson, 17 Years Old**

 **District 3 Female**

"I hope you know you're doing that wrong".

The boy next to me, Outlet, rolls his eyes before placing down his screwdriver and spitting "Well why don't you show me how it's done since you're so clever".

I thought he'd never ask.

My hands immediately grasp the screwdriver he placed down and begin to rework the atrocity he began creating. Within just a few minutes I have the device, a basic remote control, functioning as intended. That was child's play.

"Show off" Outlet hisses before picking up the remote and leaving.

It's fair to say that I'm fairly unpopular at school and I'm not afraid to admit that when I help people it is usually so I can brag that I can achieve what they're struggling at. This sort of attitude hasn't exactly gained me any friends but that's something I have accepted and embraced. Friends are nothing more than distractions that prevent you from advancing in your intellectual field, plus the people in my District are ignorant. My mother had only just turned sixteen when I was born, my father was only seventeen, which made work difficult. They've always struggled to make ends meet.

I think back to last years winner, Haymitch Abernathy, and how young his parents looked when they were interviewed during the final days of the Second Quarter Quell. They couldn't have been much older than my parents were when there son was born but perhaps its more common for people to give birth at a young age in the outer Districts, it's no secret that life expectancy there isn't as high as it is in richer areas of Panem.

The people of 3 didn't exactly help my parents situation, mostly due to personal judgements they had already made about them and their "frivolous actions", therefore making work even more difficult but we somehow managed even if it did mean signing up for tesserae once I hit twelve years old.

Once I've finished constructing the necessary gadget our teacher assigned us to make, an easy enough project, I begin to pack up my belongings, so I can leave before the reaping. The rest of the District gets the entire day off but those who are in advanced technological education, such as myself, have to spend at least an hour in lesson. As the Capitol says "engineers aren't built overnight" hence why we're subjected to such strenuous hours.

My house lies right next to the District orphanage, it was the only house we could afford. I have to admit I feel sorry for the poor things living in that god awful place but I rarely mix with the children from there, mostly because some of them have odd tendencies that I just simply can't be bothered putting up with.

"How's our little spark doing?" my father smiles at me as I enter our house.

"Bright as ever" I grin back giving him a tight hug.

"Your mother has laid out some clothes, but I assume you won't be changing?"

I nod to confirm what he was thinking. I rarely get changed for the reaping simply because I have little need to, the clothes I wear for school, a simple blue work dress and flats, are formal enough for the public reaping anyway. Plus, it means I don't have to waste time getting changed again afterwards before I can continue working on my various inventions. Once I'm old enough I plan on getting accepted into an Advanced Gadget Engineering course, or AGA for short, to further enhance my technical skills before becoming an official inventor.

For me, the Hunger Games isn't that big of a concern, sure it's a horrific event but it's never had too deep of an impact on me.

 _It's never had too deep of an impact on me._

 _It's never had too deep of an impact on me._

The words echo in my head as my name is read out into the microphone, confirming my participation in the games. I know no one will volunteer, no one ever volunteers here. The world seems to blur, I can hear the faint sobs of my mother in the background, but I remain frozen in my own world. It takes the rough nudge of a peacekeeper to eventually get me moving towards the stage. Once I'm there, I take a look out at the citizens watching me, the girls silently celebrating that they themselves weren't picked.

For the first time in my life, I'm not sure how to react.

For the first time in my life, I'm lost.

* * *

 **Nokia Adamar, 17 Years Old**

 **District 3 Male**

It's fair enough to say that emotions are a complicated concept to grasp. There's such a wide range of them it's almost entirely impossible to understand them all fully. In fact, I often get confused between which emotion I'm actually feeling since they seem to overlap. Joy is typically followed by sorrow, grief is typically followed by rage, and love is typically followed by loneliness. No wonder it's so hard to recognise what anyone is actually feeling.

The medication makes things even more confusing. That's why I stopped taking it. It makes me feel all hazy and lost, it's not particularly a feeling I like. When I'm not taking them the world seems so much happier, it allows me to forget all about things like the Hunger Games or the fact that my parents abandoned me because, even as a kid, I was a little "off".

It's so much easier to just close your eyes and think of a better world than to actually face the hardships of real life. I get a little lost in my imaginations sometimes, I once spent half a day just thinking about what life would be like if my parents hadn't left or even if I simply knew who they were. I thought so much about it that I believed it was actually true, is it sad to say that the happiest moment of my life was a moment I'm sure didn't actually happen?

I do get little moments of hope however, mostly in the form of Tesla. She lives next door to the orphanage I live in and I can honestly say I've never seen a girl more beautiful in my life. Everything about her is perfect to me. Those large deep set brown eyes, which are always covered by her thick rimmed glasses, are her most attractive feature. It sounds hasty to say but I know, deep down, we share a connection. I know I truly love her.

That being said, we've only spoken once. I was carrying the bundles of tesserae grain that all the orphanage kids have to take, I managed to get just outside the care home before dropping them. That's when she came, the young pretty girl from next door. I recognised her from school but I hadn't taken much notice of her then, how foolish of me.

"You need some help?" she smiled, picking up the grain sacks and carrying them into the home with me.

"Thank you" I struggled to get the words out to her as I was so taken aback by not only her beauty but her small act of kindness

"No worries" she replied "See you around"

And with that she left. We never spoke since but I kept around her, following her wherever she goes. Watching every graceful step she takes, she's beyond everyone else in this District. She is mine and I am hers. I would do anything for her.

So when her name is called out at the reaping, I know what must be done. If she needs a human shield then I am a willing volunteer to be one. The second a boys name is called I thrust myself forward from the crowd.

"I volunteer as tribute"

Most people look at me like I'm mad but I don't care. I only care for Tesla.

As we shake hands, her hands are rougher than I expected, I look into those beautiful eyes and give a small smile. She looks back at me cold and emotionless.

Poor angel, I swear to her that she will be the one returning home.

* * *

 **Thanks to Author-Hime for submitting Tesla and 20 for submitting Nokia! Really fun to write for. I'm trying to not give everything away about the tributes in the reapings so I still have enough space for character development in later chapters.**


	8. District 4 Reaping

**Ria Perez, 18 Years Old**

 **District 4 Female**

"Aim straighter" my sister, Marena, commands as I throw another chisel at a makeshift target.

I sigh, anticipating my sisters glares due to my throw being a little off. I've admittedly been slacking lately, especially by my family's standards. My father is the current owner of District 4s most prestigious gymnasium, most refer to it as the academy, in which our youths are prepared for the games. Naturally, since both my parents, alongside Marena, are trainers here they have high expectations of me.

I call them my parents but there's not much of a family bond between us, in fact, I rarely see my mother and father unless I'm training at the facility. They live busy lives. I've spent many nights eating dinner on my own simply because my parents were too occupied with their jobs, spending endless nights thinking of different fighting techniques, constantly comparing each student to determine who is the strongest, who is the best. When they're not at the training facility they're typically working at their official jobs as fish farmers. Sometimes I miss the days when I was just a kid and my parents would take me to the shore, allowing me to collect oysters and even keep the occasional pearl. But that was before Minnow.

I should explain; Minnow was my other sister. Technically she still is my sister but only in biological terms. Ever since I was little, all I ever heard was how great Minnow was, how Minnow was going to volunteer, how Minnow was going to be another of District 4s marvellous victors. Minnow took it all in stride and boasted our parents love for her, I hated her for it.

Then when the reaping for the 46th Hunger Games came around, and Minnow was at the prime volunteering age of 16, she never stood forward. She allowed other girls to take the glory, other girls to have a shot at victory, and my parents were infuriated at her for it. Whilst the rest of the District spent the night celebrating the reaping, my family spent hours screaming at Minnow for embarrassing the family. My parents had told practically all the District of Minnow's intentions to volunteer and the fact that she refused to has humiliated them deeply. Minnow claimed she never wanted to enter the games in the first place before going on to say things about the games and the Capitol that, had anyone else have heard her, would've got her executed for treason.

Minnow was kicked out that night. I've not seen her since.

Ever since then, my parents and Marena have been stricter on me. I'm the only child left in the family who is able to volunteer. The only child left able to bring glory to my family. And I don't intend on letting that opportunity get away from me.

I have no other option really. If I don't, I'll surely suffer the same fate as Minnow. Plus I'd have nowhere else to turn. I'm not exactly popular in my District. Sure, District 4 is supportive of the games but no one else has the same mindset as I do. I spend most of my time thinking about either training, technique or strategy, even when I'm in school meaning I don't have much time for socialising. I'm not too bothered about having friends anyway if I'm honest, they only distract you from what's really important.

My father's training facility has, so far, supplied three victors to District 4. In fact, the only victor from District 4 to not have trained at our facility was our very first winner, Mags, who won long before the facility was set up anyway. She and my parents tend to disagree on multiple areas.

I suppose the hardest part of being in my family is that my mother and father always seem prouder of the victors they've produced then they do of me, their own daughter. They refer to those three victors as their "family" since they raised them to some extent. Perhaps that's why this is so important to me.

It's time I stopped appearing as an outsider.

* * *

 **Arno Trian, 18 Years Old**

 **District 4 Male**

People often underestimate the bond a pair of twins have.

It's almost a spiritual connection like we share a soul with one another. Perhaps that's why we're so inseparable. My mother had always said that I was so reckless with my life but then so careful when it came to Gaff's, my twin brother.

We grew up fishing, as most in my District do, but our family always lacked behind in terms of wealth compared to everyone else. It became Gaff and I's job to keep the light in everyone's lives when our family fell on tough times.

We used to play this game where we would switch around our names so our teachers would get confused on which of us was which. It was so effective that even our own parents wouldn't be able to tell our true identities. Perhaps it's slightly immature but, in a nation as bleak as Panem, you take any opportunity for a small giggle.

There are of course other joys in my life, mainly in the form of Delta. She lives next door. We first met when we began our jobs as fisherman and she giggled as a fish escaped my clutches, slapping my face with its wet tail as it did so. I've had a slight crush on her ever since, although I'd never admit it.

The reapings in District 4 proceed as normal. Cicero Wellbred picks a name of a girl and a single volunteer steps forward. I recognise the girl from my school. It's Ria Perez, the daughter of the owners of Districts 4s training centre.

I hear that in Districts 1 and 2 there's always at least ten or twenty willing volunteers for each gender whilst in the other Districts there is never anyone offering to enter the arena. District 4 is perhaps slightly complicated. Those who train for the games are typically orphans, those whose parents were lost to sea storms. It makes sense I suppose, after all, who cares if these kids die or if they grow up to be malicious and cold-blooded? They haven't exactly got parents to teach them otherwise.

The training facility in 4 is allegedly quite strict, allowing only the best to volunteer and if they don't deem anyone suitable then they refuse to allow anyone to volunteer at all. The rumour going around is that a girl volunteer was chosen by the facility, which appears to be Ria, but no boy was deemed worthy of entering the arena this year, that means that whichever boy is chosen is more than likely participating in the games.

Everyone at school knows about the shame Ria's sister brought upon her family and how hard Ria has been training in order to remove that shame. I fear for anyone who has to go against her.

"Gaff Trian" Cicero announces.

I had been focusing on Ria, and my slight terror of her, so intensely that I'd completely ignored Cicero reaching into the male bowl. That was of course until he announced the name of my twin.

We turn to look at one another, speechless. We're so alike, losing him would be like losing a part of myself. Our features identical, not even our family could tell the difference between us. I doubt the Capitol would be able to either.

Gaff begins to step forward but I instantly grab his arm and shake my head. I turn away from him and begin heading towards the stage.

"Arno" I hear Gaff whisper "Please"

I ignore him and continue on my path. Cicero seems oblivious to everything and simply applauds me before Ria and I shake hands. She stares at me with little remorse, we'll likely be allies but I know she won't hesitate before impaling me.

But if my death means Gaff gets to keep living, it's worth it.

So I smile at Ria. Give me your best shot.

* * *

 **Sorry if this chapter seems a little odd, been ill recently and been stuffed with uni work so writing this was a little difficult but hopefully the later chapters will be better. Let me know what you think in the reviews 😊**


	9. District 5 Reapings

**Sorrel Yukim, 17 Years Old**

 **District 5 Female**

I was never considered a pretty girl. Even when I was young people would comment on how boyish I look, mostly due to my height. I tower over most people, which I suppose isn't exactly considered feminine. Men for some reason are always afraid of dating a girl taller than them, hurts their ego I suppose, hence why I've never had a boyfriend, in fact when I was little all the boys used to tease me calling me "the hawk" because of my large, muscular arms and hawk-like face in general. Girls aren't particularly better. But, nowadays people don't really talk about my arms.

Looking back, I used to be so reckless.

I was a rather carefree child, well, as carefree as you can get in Panem, with little to no worries. Always messing around, never taking things too seriously, even the Hunger Games was never a huge concern of mine as I was always far more interested in climbing the few trees we have in our District or trying to persuade everyone why it would be a good idea to swim in the hydro-dam. I even used to throw knives around from my mother's kitchen just because I was bored although I had to stop when the peacekeepers considered this as training for the games, pfft, my aim was never that good anyway.

Especially not since the accident. I was only eight, or maybe nine, when it happened. All children in my District begin an intense apprenticeship a few years before we're eligible for the reaping, I took mine with my father as a maintenance assistant. We were working on these miniature windmills that when bundled together would generate huge masses of power for the District, as usual, I was misbehaving and paying little attention. The details of what happened are a little hazy, even for me, but somehow my left arm became entrapped in the windmills. They weren't strong enough to slice straight the slab of flesh that was my arm but they sure did enough damage to make it essentially useless. Grotesque scars now cover the length of my left arm and despite it being years ago they still ache when touched, some people mistake them for burn scars because of how severe they are.

I've considered just chopping the whole thing off from time to time, mostly from embarrassment and self-loathing, but I can never bring myself to do it. Even if boys and girls were interested in me before then they sure weren't interested in me now.

The whole experience has made me a little bit more sensible and a little more closed. I'd be up for making friends but I'm tired of answering questions about my arm whenever I meet new people, I'm tired of being looked at like I'm some freak. I'm tired of everything.

A good thing about the accident was that it taught me a lot about family and not just the biological kind. When I became disfigured it's not as if all my friends just stopped talking to me completely, but they did talk to me less. At first, it wasn't that noticeable but then, little by little, the frequency with which they spoke to me grew smaller and smaller until after a while my friendship with them was just an echo.

"Sorrel!" a low voice speaks "Play with me"

And then there's Hansi. The only person I actually made any effort to befriend since the accident. I knew her before the incident but never paid much attention to her. Unlike me, she's rather attractive. Her only problem is that she isn't fully there, if you get what I mean. At the age of seventeen, she's at the mental capacity of a ten-year-old. It's rather sweet if I'm honest, to see a bit of innocence in someone my age. The rest of the teenagers in my District lack that, perhaps our world is too cruel for innocence.

"Not now Hansi" I gently reply "You know where we're heading don't you?"

She thinks for a second, her dark brown eyes look upwards in an adorable manner as she thinks.

"Reaping?" she finally replies to which I nod.

"That's right. Now come on it's going to start soon" I say. It's funny, Hansi must be the only person in the Districts who doesn't consider the fact that she might be reaped.

That is until she is reaped. When her name is pulled from the glass bowl and read aloud, she stands motionless.

"Sorrel?" she looks at me in disbelief, confused on the situation in general.

The shove of a peacekeeper brings her to the real world, perhaps for the first time in her life. She stumbles her way to the stage.

I already know what everyone is thinking, _it's amazing she even made it this far._ You don't exactly get far in District 5 if you're mentally challenged, our industry is based on intelligence and initiative and it's rumored that parents are encouraged to abandon children that demonstrate any form of mental disability so Hansi has, by all means, lived a long life compared to others like her.

But there's no chance she'd survive the games. Sure, she's pretty enough to appeal to some sponsors but the second she begins talking at they realize she's not fully there her chances of any support will be gone.

 _Perhaps our world is too cruel for innocence._

"I…" I begin, the entire crowd looks at me, almost waiting for me to do the unthinkable. For a second I can't utter the rest of the sentence but eventually I force them out.

"I volunteer as tribute" the final words coming out as a mere whimper.

Sorrel immediately breaks down, going into hysterics and trying to reach out for me but I ignore her. There's no time for tears, not here. The looks of everyone else in the District is of disapproval, volunteering is considered suicide, they look at me as if I'm an idiot.

It's a shame they don't know what true loyalty means.

* * *

 **Marcos Torrero, 16 Years Old**

 **District 5 Male**

"Marcos" my mother utters in her usual sing-song voice "someone didn't take their medicine today did they?"

I hear what she's saying but the words don't process to me properly, I'm far too distracted. Nothing will seem important to me until my hands are clean. This is the 31st time I've washed them today, I have to keep count as I insist on washing them at least forty times a day. My hands are practically always red due to how frequently I'm scrubbing them. It's worse on the days my family can't afford soap, although admittedly this is a rare occasion.

"Remember what I taught you Marcos?" my brother, Xavier, gently whispers "Hydrogen, Helium…"

I join in with him "Lithium, Beryllium, Boron, Carbon…"

Xavier taught me a trick not too long back, whenever I'm stuck in one of my compulsions, the main on being having to clean my hands, I should say out loud the elements on the periodic table. On days when it's being particularly bad, I have to say what form of element each group of atoms is as well. I can't explain why it works, I just know it does. By the time I've gotten to Rhodium, a transition metal, I've compelled myself to step away from the sink.

"Honestly you'll end up draining Panem of all its water someday kid" Xavier jokes with me "How about we try fixing up that project we started?"

I nod enthusiastically, spending time with my brother and working on our projects together is one of the few things that distract me from my "quicks". We'd recently been working on a makeshift remote controller that we were hoping would be capable of changing channels when the games are broadcasted, watching the games makes my tics go out of control relentlessly although I try to remain optimistic, so that whilst the rest of the District is forced to watch the brutish event me and my family would be able to distract ourselves from it. Of course, watching the games is mandatory and should it be discovered that we even attempted to create such a thing we would be severely punished but I doubt anyone would notice if one family didn't watch the annual horror show.

The events of the 50th Hunger Games nearly drove my tics and compulsions crazy. A boy in my year was one of the four reaped tributes. I never really spoke to him, my father had pulled me from school when I was younger to home apprentice me instead, but even seeing a slightly familiar face in those games made the whole thing feel a little personal, particularly when he became submerged in boiling lava, along with ten other tributes, ending his life.

I try not to think too much about it. With the annual games put aside, life in District 5 isn't that bad. I try to remember this as I put on my best dress shirt and head down with my family to the reaping.

The girls go first and, to everyone's surprise, someone volunteers. I can't remember the last time my District had a volunteer, or whether we've had one at all, so this will have already caught the eyes of the Capitol. The girl who walks on stage, who announces her name as Sorrel, has a very intriguing look about her.

"I thought boys could only volunteer for other boys" my friend Sawyer whispers in confusion

I giggle slightly "she's not a boy you moron"

Sawyer laughs with me, and for a minute the whole world seems to be gone and it's just me and Sawyer laughing at something stupid and ridiculous.

"Marcos Torrero"

It takes me a slight moment to register why someone just said my name, but the fact that everyone in the square stares at me in either shock or anticipation confirms that I'm going to the games, and I don't suspect anyone will volunteer for me.

 _Be positive, be positive, be positive, be positive._ I repeat the words in my head as I walk up to the stage.

I always try to think about the positives in any situation, it's becoming a little difficult at the moment.

 _I'll get to go to the Capitol, but I'll die. I'll get to experience luxury like no other, but I'll die. I'll get to taste delicacies I've never experienced, but I'll die._

"Marcos!" I turn towards the stands where Xavier shouts for me. Hearing him call my name, the thought that I'll never see him again. It's enough to set me off.

As I'm pushed to the stage I start twitching, at first, it only starts in my hand but it quickly works it way up to my shoulder until eventually my whole right arm is uncontrollable.

"Ooh looks like someone's excited" Domitio, our escort, snickers innocently.

I try to control myself but it's useless, this is how I will be introduced to the Capitol.

* * *

 **So, interesting fact, Sorrel was originally written as a male but, because I'm an idiot, I somehow managed to place him as the District 5 female instead. Don't ask how it happened because I'm not entirely sure myself, it probably has something to do with reading the form when I was ill and sleepy, which I apologize for. So, instead of throwing away the character I just decided to go with the flow and make him a woman. I kind of like how it turned out.**

 **Absolutely loved being able to write one character with a physical disability and another with an anxiety disorder so a big thanks to Cahayafosc and messymodgepodge for submitting them both! Also, in the last chapter, I forgot to thank Axe smelling god and fangirlforever19 for submitting Ria and Arno so a big thanks to the both of them as well!**


	10. District 6 Reapings

**Bree Mavis, 15 Years Old**

 **District 6 Female**

"Jax, finish up your bread" I say to my youngest brother as he attempts to leave the dinner table

"But I'm full Bree" he whines

I go over to him and place a gentle hand on his shoulder "We mustn't waste anything Jax, you've seen how famished the families from the Brakes look. You should be grateful"

He nods his head in understanding before going back to his meal whilst I continue with the washing. The Brakes is what we refer to the poorer area of District 6 as, most of our tributes seem to stem from there as well.

That's not to say that we're exactly rich, in fact it's sometimes a wonder how we even manage to feed ourselves everyday even though none of us have signed up for tesserae. I like to think it's due to my budget spending skills, I'm exceptionally good at making a list of the essentials we need and anything that we no longer need is either passed down or sold for good money.

It's fair to say that I've sort of become the matriarch of this family. Our mother passed away whilst giving birth to Jax, taking a terrible toll on all of us. I've had to mature since then, become more patient, considering that I was essentially helping my father raise a child.

"All done Bree!" Jax beams at me with pride, showing me his empty plate.

"Aw well done little man." I smile back in return before handing him a bright red lollipop, my reaping treat to him.

"Well done little man." I hear a mocking voice repeat from behind me.

I turn to see my older brother, Lucas, glaring at the two of us. I glare back at him. It's fair to say that me and my older brother have a flawed relationship, especially since our mother passed. Behind him stands Becky, his non-girlfriend…don't ask.

"Lucas" I coldly acknowledge him "shouldn't you be getting ready? The reaping is in an hour"

He rolls his eyes and heads towards Jax, snatching the lollipop from his hands before uttering "thanks for the sweet twerp"

"Give that back to him!" I growl

"Or what" he snickers "Seriously, what are you going to do?"

I stand there in silent frustration, he laughs in a "that's what I thought" manner before leaving us alone. Who does he think he is? For as long as I've known him he's been a monster to everyone, being exceptionally ungrateful for me essentially picking up the pieces of our broken family, treating Jax like a piece of dirt on the floor and me like I'm a household slave. I'm sick of it!

My father soon walks in, he spent the day at the mechanics, and I have to calm myself down. The last thing he needs on a day like this is an argument. Once Lucas is ready, he's always the last one to be dressed, we head to the town square. Jax goes off with my father and me and Lucas head into the centre of the square, just in front of the justice building, ready for the ceremony to begin.

"Why can't you just be nice to Jax? For just one day?" I angrily whisper to him as we walk.

He huffs at me "Like I owe that kid anything"

"Then do it for me, or for dad" I plead

"I don't owe you or dad anything either" he finishes before walking off.

The reaping proceeds as normal but I stand there infuriated. Doesn't owe me anything? I did everything for him!

I raised our baby brother like he was our own.

"And now for the girls"

I kept our budgeting precise and tidy so we didn't spend what we don't need.

"And the female tribute from District 6 is…"

I held this family together!

"Bree Mavis!"

My name catches me by surprise, but I immediately know what it means. I'm going into the games. I look around, even Lucas seems a little shocked but I'm still too angry with him to show any weakness or dread. My anger forces my body to troupe up to the stage.

I just pray the cameras aren't catching the tears struggling to remain behind my eyes.

* * *

 **Lucas Mavis, 17 Years Old**

 **District 6 Male**

I collapse onto my bed, wiping the sweat from my forehead.

"Wow" I laugh "That was…um"

I'm lost for words.

"Yeah" Becky breathes out, still trying to catch her breath.

Becky understands me, not like the rest of the bums my District has to offer. She understands my pain and is actually a pretty decent person to stick around with, plus the sex is great. We'd never get together officially but she's cool to have as a friend for the moment.

"God I hate reaping day" I utter, pulling on pair of jeans whilst Becky throws on her shirt.

"You should come to mine afterwards" she suggests "I know someone who's getting us a good supply."

Supply? Does she mean morphling. I know the District has a alarmingly large problem when it comes to substance abuse but I never imagined she took it. Her skins too perfect and her eyes are too young, not like the addicts you see walking around.

"You know I don't do that shit Becky" I state "and you shouldn't either"

She giggles at me "relax baby, I've only tried it twice and plus tonights a special occasion"

I smile back at her, pulling on my t-shirt "I don't need morphling to enjoy myself"

She winks at me "I can tell" before we head out of my bedroom.

Once we get downstairs I see my younger sister, Bree, dotting on my brother, Jax. The very image of it makes me sick.

Perhaps it's harsh to say but there is no one I loathe in the world more than Jax. He's only eight years old but he's already making my life feel insufferable. I know I'm being unreasonable, but I can't help but be reminded that he's the reason my mother died. It doesn't help that he bares so much resemblance to my mum either; same button noise, same blue eyes that even I have, same infectious giggle. I was only nine when she passed away. My father told me that she gave her life pushing out my baby brother, she sacrificed herself so he could live, as if that was meant to console me. What made him so special that she had to die in order for him to be born? The worst thing is that Bree and my father went on as if nothing had ever happened. I was forced to share a room with the baby, Bree began acting as if she was the mother of our family and my dad just carried on going to work without even asking how I was dealing with the whole situation. Everyone would comment on how sad it was that Jax never got to meet his mother and how brave he was, but they're wrong. It's far worse to have known someone, loved someone, become dedicated to someone and have them snatched away from your life within mere seconds than to have never known them at all.

I hadn't always been this bitter. In fact, I was originally quite excited at the prospect of having a little brother. Now I'm just filled with resentment, I hate myself for it, but I can never shake away the feeling of disdain for that little shit.

And yet, the fact that he looks so similar to my mother practically forces me to look after the brat, at least indirectly, because deep down, even I know, my mother would be disappointed to see the way I treat him. So every month since I could I claimed tesserae for him and my sister gaining us enough grain to survive, my fathers a mechanic which is a relatively low paying job in my District. Increasing the likelihood of my name being chosen in exchange for them being able to eat is the only act of kindness I intend on showing them, and I don't feel the need to inform them of this single act of charity either. They can continue thinking I'm a selfish prick, and I can continue despising them.

Which is probably why I felt a little bit of a blow when my sisters name is picked, I had ensured she never had to enter her own name into the bowl and the fact that she, out of all the girls in our District including the famished or drug addicted ones who had claimed tesserae their whole lives, was chosen feels like a cruel cosmic joke.

The moment the name "Lucas Mavis" leaves our escorts lips ,and rings throughout the entire District, I knew that fate had a sense of humour.

As I stand across from my sister, her eyes filled with anger, fear and determination, I think back to all the arguments we've ever had. Every slammed door, every moody pout and every time either of us had shouted "I wish you were never born!"

Yes. Fate definitely does have a twisted sense of humour.

* * *

 **Half way through the reapings! I'll be the first to admit, I hate writing reapings. I much prefer writing the actual Capitol and games part of SYOTs but the reapings are an essential part of the story either way.**

 **Thanks to ilookhotinblack for both of these tributes!**


	11. Update

Hi guys! Quick update just to let you know that there won't be a chapter this week due to the fact that I have to hand in two essays by Friday! Things should hopefully be back to normal by next week.

Sorry for the wait!


	12. District 7 Reaping

**Phoenix Adler, 16 Years Old**

 **District 7 Female**

It seems ridiculous to say, but I adore my reaping clothes. They consist of a white blouse along with a dark blue skirt which I occasionally match with a sweater They're the cleanest items I own and I admittedly look rather classy in them, especially when compared to my run down puffer jacket and boots I wear for work. Most of the time I look like a girl, but in my reaping clothes I look nothing less than a lady. A lady with an iron fist ready to lead her nation into democracy.

"And that, my fellow citizens of Panem, is why you should vote for me to be your President" I rehearse in front of my mirror, smiling from ear to ear "for a freer, fairer and kinder future!"

I thrust my left arm into the air as I shout the last part.

"Very inspiring" I hear a voice snicker behind me.

"You know boys aren't allowed in girls rooms" I hiss but I can't help but hide a smile.

"Oh" Girion, the boy, giggles "perhaps I should leave you then and let you get on practicing your campaign"

I roll my eyes and sigh "Whatever, it's nice to at least pretend we have a chance to make a difference"

I shouldn't get too hung up on Girion making fun of me. He's a nice guy really. His parents were killed in the same lumber mill accident that killed mine leading to us both being placed in the community care home. Plus, it's fair to say that Girion has a very good point, there's no chance I'll ever be President, heck, there's no chance I'll ever be a politician at all. I'll just end up like everyone else in District 7; cutting down trees for the rest of my life.

I mull this over as I walk towards the reaping. In fairness, I hadn't always been interested in politics, at least not until I was placed in the District orphanage. Seeing, first hand, how children in these care homes were being treated made me determined to strive for reform.

"Single line my little piggies" Mrs Ventigan, the care home's ward, announces

"Piggies" that's her sick little term of endearment for us since she knows she's leading us to slaughter.

Most the kids in the care home are malnourished, since the home only receives the very basics of necessities to cater for its substantial residents. We're all forced into claiming tesserae on top of that, which is gathered and then split and divided amongst us, as well as Mrs Ventigan, her husband and anyone else who works at the community home, equally.

As we line up in alphabetical order, placing me and my brother, Cygnus, at the front of the line, we march towards the town square. Every now and again a child will stumble upon themselves and fall over, due to lack of food or on some occasions just simple illness, which earns them a quick beating from our ward.

"You can't help them Phoenix" Cygnus whispers to me as I turn to look at the girl, no older than 12, being hit by Mrs Ventigan "You'll just make things worse"

"I know" I hiss back before turning to look onwards and marching towards the square.

Cygnus is right. There's no saving grace when it comes to the orphanage, most children there are not only malnourished but practically feral, especially the ones who had been there since birth, often resulting in fights within the walls of the home. I tried to help break up a fight once, which only resulted in myself getting a black eye.

Things have got to change, it's a shame they never will.

* * *

 **Girion Holmes, 18 Years Old**

 **District 7 Male**

I begin to feel some slight guilt as I leave Phoenix's room. Her desire to reform the system is understandable, in fact it's rather honourable but let's be real; will it ever happen?

I don't know how some of the kids here cope. That feeling of loss, that sense of not belonging anywhere. It's different for me; I'm only here because I must be. Once I'm out of that reaping bowl then I'm classified as capable enough to live out of the system, meaning I'll get to move in with my Uncle Haedric like my brother, Duncan, does. I'm not like the rest of these kids, I belong somewhere. There's something waiting for me outside of the walls of the care home.

Duncan and Uncle Haedric visit me as regularly as possible, although that proves a difficult task considering the people who own this place are practically tyrants. When I first moved in I played a small prank on Mr Ventigan, resulting in the man having nightmares for a month, how was I supposed to know he was afraid of wood lice? Anyway, have a guess who authorises visits at the care home? That's right, Mr Ventigan. Still, I get to see my brother and uncle as frequently as possible.

The setting where we meet, the community homes dreary dining area, can be a little dull. It's worse on reaping days as everyone seems a little down in the dumps, including Duncan and Uncle Haedric. I sit across from them, tossing an apple up into the air as it lands firmly on my hand again, waiting for one of them to speak. When neither does, I break the ice.

"Aw come on guys" I snicker "Today is a happy day"

They both look at me with raised eyebrows. I explain to them that, since I'm eighteen, this is my last reaping meaning that once today is over I actually get to move out of this shit hole and in with the both of them. They should be as happy as I am.

"Girion" my Uncle starts "I…I'm so sorry"

It takes him a while to start up speaking again so Duncan continues for him.

"Uncle Haedric has had a tough time with work at the moment" he begins "Business hasn't been so good and…"

Duncan pauses as well.

"We're not sure if I can take you in after today" Uncle Haedric finishes as Duncan looks at the ground.

I remain motionless, the smile that was originally on my face slowly fading away.

"You're leaving me here?" I reply, small traces of anger in my voice that grow with each word "You're leaving me? Here!"

"Just for a little while!" Duncan tries to console me "Just until we can get things sorted"

I look at him in fury, my voice cracking slightly as I speak "How long have you been having issues?"

They both pause until Duncan speaks up again "About four months"

Four months! Why hadn't they have told me sooner? I would've helped them, used all the wages I earnt and give it towards them rather than keep it to myself. I would've sold every penny to them if it had meant not staying in this hell any longer, if they had only told me! Instead they decided to drag me along, make me believe that everything was fine and that soon I would be joining them. Even in the past few weeks my Uncle has been telling me how he's been decorating my room and telling me about all the foods he and Duncan have learnt to cook for when I first arrive. They've done the worst thing a human can do, they built up someone's hope just to destroy it.

I shout all this at them, they do nothing but listen. Eventually Mrs Ventigan comes in to announce that it's almost time to leave for the reaping.

"Girion, please" Duncan pleads with me as I leave the room.

"Save it" I hiss before ripping off a woven leather bracelet that both me, my Uncle and Duncan all wear, and tossing it to the side.

For the entire duration of the reaping I'm consumed by pure rage. Children in similar situations have heard the same story; how it's only temporary and that once everything is sorted they'll come collect them. They never do, they're always left in the community home until finally they're kicked out and simply have to fend for themselves.

"Phoenix Adler" our escort, Hecate Babbitt, announces into the microphone, bringing me back to the real world.

Orphans have been reaped before, but there's something different about when Phoenix is reaped. Most orphans are nobodies, unknown by practically the entire District, no one cares for them. Everyone knows Phoenix though, her acts of kindness through the District are famous whether it be the time she risked getting beaten by a peacekeeper for stealing some apples that grew on our trees during the spring to give to a group of homeless citizens or the time she actually did take a beating from Mrs Ventigan whilst defending a seven-year-old. She was too honourable for District 7, too honourable for Panem.

And too honourable for the games. It pains me to say this to a girl I do care for but I can't see her lasting more than a few days. _And which unlucky boy will be joining her?_ I think to myself as Hecate goes to bowl containing the male names. Her hand circles the glass in an overly dramatic fashion before she rips out a name.

"Girion Holmes" she gleefully announces, "Where are you my darling?"

For a moment I'm frozen, a part of me wants to cry, a part of me wants to shout but what would the use in that be? Instead I just maintain a neutral face and walk to the stage with an air of grace and dignity. When I go to shake Phoenix's hand, her face pale and still, I catch a glimpse of my brother who is in one of the audiences stands behind her. He hasn't hidden his emotions well, as tears stream down his face.

Once I'm in the justice building, both my Uncle and Duncan come to say goodbye. I apologise for my rash behaviour and he hands me back the bracelet I tore off.

"Please try to win Girion" Duncan begs, clutching onto me so hard I can barely breathe.

"I will" I respond "I promise"

Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise. If I win I'll get to live in the victors village, I'll get to stay with my brother and Uncle and we'll never have to worry about economic woes ever again.

Time to get my game face on. Girion, you are going into that arena and you will be coming back out of it with a better life than what has so far been dealt to you.

* * *

 **So I finally updated! Sorry it took me so long, University has been eating me away recently so it's been difficult to get these things out there.**

 **Thank you to sparky-she-demon for Girion and for Phoenix! Hopefully will have the next chapter out soon but I've got two essays due for Friday so we'll see!**

 **Hope you enjoyed and please review as I love reading them!**


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